The Man's Story
by ILikeScarvesAndGuitars
Summary: The Man thinks that there should be more fics about him. So this is his story. As told to by ILikeScarvesAndGuitars...but The Man kind of takes over.R&R! You get free jam if you do!
1. We Begin

**A/N: okay so I haven't been writing as much as I used to and this idea popped into my head. Actually The Man popped into my head. Anyway, this is the story of The Man, as told to by ILikeScarvesandGuitars. Enjoy!**

* * *

"So I was walking down the street one day, carrying some jam." The Man tells me to type. 

I type as fast as I can, not wanting to let The Man down. Nor do I want him to break any bottles of his strawberry jam.

He watches me type, his legs crossed and sitting in one of those cool office chairs. I show him what I type.

"Not good enough. And change the music. I hate the Go-Go's. Except the blonde one."

I start to argue that I don't think that there was a blonde Go-Go when he hushes me by sticking some jam into my mouth.

Like…actual jam.

I chew on the jam a bit, turn the music to something else, and he nods approvingly.

As I start to type again, he pushes me away from the desk.

"Let me type." He says, handing me his jam.

"But if you type it'll probably take longer." I attempt to argue. The Man likes to have his way, you know.

"Hush. The Man wants to type. Rule One: you cannot argue with The Man. Unless your name is Roger. But look what happened to him."

I nod and I back away from the desk.

"There," he says, "Much better. We begin…."

* * *

"From now on, you I will refer to you as The Girl." 

The Girl shrugs her shoulders and watches me, The Man, type.

"Why does it always say it's a spelling error when I type my name?" I, The Man asks.

The Girl shakes her head. "No, it says that the 'm' in Man should be a lower case letter."

I, The Man frowns. "But I am The Man. The MAN."

"I don't think the computer knows that."

"Well it should."

I, The man, er, The Man, started to type.

I, The Man sighed. "Now we shall begin my story. And you may ask questions."

"What do you want me to say?" The Girl asks.

"Like you are interviewing me."

"Okay," The Girl said thoughtfully. "Where were you born?"

The Man, as in, me, the one who is typing, smiles and sits back in The Chair.

I mean, the chair.

"Well, I suppose I was born in The House."

"The House?" The Girl questions.

"Yes." I, The Man, answered.

"Okay then." She ponders some more. "Who are your parents?"

"The Old Man and The Old Lady."

The Girl looks at me like she just ate some bad jam.

"Okay so you are The Man now, what were you when you were a little boy?"

"….The Little Boy."

"When you were a teenager?"

"…The Teenager."

The Girl raises an eyebrow.

"Just where _were_ you born?" She asks.

"The--"

"Don't say 'The Town'." The Girl says, cutting me off.

"Yes, I was going to say 'The City', as in…New York City? You know….that's what they call it."

The Girl looks annoyed.

"How about we end questioning for the night, please." She begs.

The Girl looks over my shoulder.

"I didn't beg!"

"Fine fine." I, The Man says, rolling The Eyes. "I'll change it…."

"How about we end questioning for the night, please." She stated kindly.

The Girl nods her head in approval. "Better."

* * *

**Okay this is close to being a CrackFic but you know. I enjoy it. So does The Man. Please R&R.We promise you some jam. **


	2. We Begin Even More

**A/N: Okay I'm actually getting reviews on this! That seriously surprises me LMAO!!! Thank you guys so much for putting up with the insane writing that I carry with me.Jam to you all. **

* * *

"So let's try this again." The Girl sighed, looking pretty sleepy and eating some bread with The Jam.

The good kind, that is.

I, The Man, nodded my head and took the bread from her.

"Rule number two; you cannot eat The Jam with a non toasted bread. It's discrimination against toast."

"But--"

"No buts."

"But I hate toast!"

I, The Man, grumbled and once again, rolled The Eyes.

"Fine. But soon I'll make you like toast."

The Girl just shook her head and sat down beside me.

"So ask me more questions." I, The Man requested.

The Girl crossed her legs did like I had before and munched on her non-toasted – discrimination - against - toast bread.

"Well…let's see. Okay. Why did you follow me home from school?"

"Because I liked your shirt." I, The Man, said.

The Girl once again raised The Eyebrow.

"Why…did you like my shirt?"

"Because it was red and it looked like The Jam."

"I see."

"Any more questions?"

"Ah!" The Girl cried.

"What is it?" I, The Man, asked.

"How did you get into The Jam selling business?"

"Well," I, The Man said, leaning back in The Super Amazing Office Chair, "It's a long story."

The Girl sighed. "Please don't make it too long."

I, The Man, shook The Head at her. "Girl, Girl, Girl, won't you ever learn? I am The Man. My stories are supposed to be long."

The Girl looked like she was about to punch me in The Face.

"Buuuut I think I can shorten it down a little." I, The Man said.

"Good."

"Well, it all started when I was in The House, and The Grandmother was making some of The Jam."

The Girl nodded her head as she followed along. I noticed that The Girl nodded her head a lot. Maybe The Girl was a little crazy.

"So The Grandmother is stirring up some of The Jam and she added all of these different…berries and stuff into it. And I always enjoyed that jam. Sometimes I, The Man, and The Grandmother would sit and eat The Jam and The Toast. We'd listen to Céline Dion and watch American Bandstand. I'd braid her hair and she would braid mine. Those were the good old days. But then The Grandmother died. So I took The Jam Recipe and I traveled the streets of Alphabet City, with my pockets full of The Jam." 

I, The Man, paused to look at The Girl who had tears flowing down The Face.

Or Her Face. Whatever.

"That's awful." The Girl said, wiping tears. "In a strange, morbid way, that's awful."

"I know." I, The Man said, getting even a little choked up. But in many ways, I, The Man, never cried.

Just like Chuck Norris never cried.

And if Chuck Norris DID cry, I bet the world would cry along.

The Girl wiped the last of her tears. "You know, maybe we should end questioning for today."

"But why?" I, The Man, asked.

"Because I have to go to school."

"But what am I going to do all alone here?"

"I don't know." The Girl shrugged her shoulders. "You can do anything you want, really. Just don't go outside and scare the neighbors."

I, The Man, nodded. "Fine, The Girl. But when we get home you have to promise to help me write another chapter."

"Only if we get reviews." The Girl reminded me. "I promised them all jam."

I, The Man nodded. "Plus with my good looks and typing abilities, we'll get far."

The Girl attempted to say something, but with my good looks and typing abilities, it was obvious she was blinded by them, and she was speechless.


	3. Lover Boy Cutie Pie

**A/N: Okay yeah a little cheesy here but you know, please take part and ask The Man questions!! Like I'm not trying to make the fic popular or anything, I'm just like seriously running out of questions,LMAO. Thanks!!**

* * *

I, The Man, looked at The Clock on The Wall.

It was close to the time that The Girl said she would be home at.

I decided to tidy up The Room. I, The Man, had left some toast crumbs on The Floor, and little spots of The Jam stained The Carpet.

Before I, The Man, could clean it up, I, The Man could hear The Girl enter The House.

Oh well, I, The Man, will let The Girl clean it up.

* * *

The Girl is now beside I, The Man, eating some crackers and cheese. The Girl hasn't noticed the stains yet, and luckily, she can't see me type this because she is reading a magazine. The Vogue to be exact.

"So," she says, flipping through The Vogue. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ask me some more questions." I, The Man, ask.

"Okay, when did you begin to deal drugs?"

"You mean, The Jam?"

The Girl looks at me puzzled. "No, I mean, The _Jam_."

I, The Man, stare at her.

"….haven't you ever heard the song Christmas Bells? You have like….8 lines or so in it!"

"Let's changed the subject." I, The Man, pleaded.

"Fine." The Girl rolled The Eyes. "Uh…why did you call Roger a 'lover boy, cutie pie.', and then follow it with a death threat?"

"Ah." I, The Man, recalled this. "Because I have always liked Roger a little, but he tried to steal my client. So I thought I would butter him up a little and THEN say I would kill him."

"I see."

"But that's not all." I, The Man, continued. I, The Man, hates it when people interrupt me in the middle of a good story. "As you can see, in the movie, I do not refer to him as a 'cutie pie.' Why? Because, I, The Man is tougher. Tougher then I, The Man, used to be many years ago."

"Once again, I see." The Girl said.

"Anymore questions?" I, The Man, asks.

"Do you ever feel sad that there aren't as many fics about you as you wished there would be?" The Girl asked I, The Man.

I, The Man, pouted a little. I, The Man, hardly ever pouts.

"I, The Man, really thinks that there should be more fics about me. A lot more. I, The Man, is an important person! I, The Man, is just as important as Angel, or Roger, or that geek boy with glasses!"

"Hey hey." The Girl put down The Vogue and stood up. "You, The Man, will never ever ever EVER mess with Mark. Ever."

The Girl and I, The Man, had a staring contest for a while, except I, The Man, was a little scared of The Girl. Just a little though.

After a few minutes of staring, I, The Man, gave up.

"Fine."

"Good." The Girl sighed and sat down again.

"Do you have anymore questions? I, The Man, loves answering questions, Girl."

"I know." The Girl sighed. "I have an idea."

"What is it, Girl?" I, The Man, asked.

"Okay I'm kinda running out of questions here….we could ask reviewers to ask questions. It could be like….Ask The Man. Like your own show."

"I, The Man's, own show?"

"Yup!"

"Do I have to share it with anybody else?"

"Uh, no."

"Good okay. The Girl, you are one smart Girl."

"Thank you." The Girl beamed. "But I think we should stop and post this chapter."

I, The Man, sighed a little. "Fine. But again, you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"That we can listen to The Adam Pascal Man again tonight."

The Girl's face lit up. "Of course."


	4. Ask The Man!

**A/N: Wow okay The Man likes questions, and he got a bunch of them! Thank you!  
**

**

* * *

**

**It's Ask The Man!  
Starring: The Man!  
(And The Girl.)**

**What's your first name?** From Maureen Elphaba Thropp.

Answer: Heh, well, see, I'm not too sure. I'm guessing 'The' might be it, but I, The Man was never told what my name was. Sadness, I, The Man knows. But if I, The Man, could ever have a name, it would probably be...Timothy. Just because it's cool. Timothy Man. Heh.

**What is The Man's favorite color?** From Gerry the Roger Doll.

Answer: The color of The Jam is I, The Man's favorite color. Now what color is The Jam, you ask? The Jam is red. The day I, The Man, met The Girl, her shirt was The Color of The Jam. Which is red.

**Does The Man have a crush on Mimi?** From Birdhearted.

Answer: Very good question! Actually, I do and I don't. A-Mimi was I, The Man's, favorite customer. One of them anyway. I, The Man, liked the coats she would wear. And those boots. And that hair. Ooooh and those eyes. Those deep brown sultry eyes. Ahem, anyway, the only thing that made I, The Man, sad was when she hooked up with Roger. Gave up her vices. Went back, back to school. Eviction or not, I, The Man knew the week was hot, but as long as she had Roger, she knew she would be cool. She couldn't crack the love code, but sadly, he made her heart explode.  
BUT I, The Man, did come through for her after her and Roger had a fight. Thankfully.

**Is there anything that bothers you about your job? Particularly, does it bother you that the JAM may sometimes give people AIDS?** From armageddon-incarnate

Answer: Nothing bothers I, The Man, about my job. Except when men with long hair named Roger run up to me, The Man, asking me where I, The Man, have seen his girlfriend. Anyway, The Jam has it's side effects. That's all I'm sayin'...

**How much do you miss the Grandmother? Would you come and huggle with me and teach me how to make the Jam?** From armageddon-incarnate

Answer: I miss my Grandmother a lot. She helped brush my hair. We would have good times. I cannot watch The Titanic or listen to The Céline Dion now. I cry too many The Tears. Nor can I watch American Bandstand. That's The Hardest part for I, The Man. I, The Man, loves American Bandstand.  
Anyway, of course, I, The Man, would like to teach you how to make The Jam, but it's a secret. I, The Man, would be betraying Man's everywhere.

**Do You, The Man, ever wash The Hair?** From DramaQueenMaureen.

Answer: Why yes, DramaQueenMaureen, I, The Man, do. Does. Whatever. I, The Man, is not perfect at The English Language. But to fully answer your question: Being The Man is hard work. I, The Man, has to stay out on The Street for quite a long time. I, The Man, cannot get near water for quiet a while. The Jam is in high production, you know. People want it. They can't get enough of it. But when I, The Man, can get near a shower, I do wash my hair. I, The Man likes to use Head and Shoulders, because I, The Man, thinks it can smell like The Jam. I, The Man, also likes to brush The Hair so it's nice and smooth.

The Girl and I, The Man, would like to thank The Reviewers. If you, The Reviewers, have anymore questions, we will answer The Questions in The Next Chapter. If not, we will continue The Adventure.


	5. Questions and tv

**A/N: Yay more reviews and questions. Thank you!! R&R!

* * *

**Question: **There's more than one Man?** From aramgeddon-incarnate

Answer: Yes. Well. There are 'The Men'. They sell The Jam too, but not THE Jam. As in, my Jam. We walk around, selling The Jam. We do not all look the same. Who knows, YOU might be The Man. You, you, you, or even YOU. So beware. We have a strong union. Sorta.

Question: **Does The Man like onions?** From Stephanie Pascal

Answer: Yes, I, The Man, does. Except when I try to peel them and they make me cry. That is when I chew The Gum and it makes I, The Man, feel better. I like The Onions in The Salsa. That is about it.

Question: **Does The Man like The Fanfiction?** From Gerry the Roger Doll

Answer: Yes, The Man does like The Fanfiction. I, The Man, only wishes people would write about him more often. That is why The Girl is helping me write The Story. But do I read The Fanfiction from time to time? Yes, I, The Man, does. I like to read MoJo, and Angel and Collins. But that is it. None of this Roger/Mark stuff. The Man does have a conscious, you know.

* * *

"Well," The Girl said, "How did you like The Questions?" 

"I, The Man, liked them a lot."

"Good." The Girl smiled.

"Please tell me that, you, The Girl, has more questions for me."

The Girl sighed. "Fine. Uh…what's your favorite TV show?"

"Ah, that is a hard one." I, The Man, thought for a while. "Well, I do like The American Bandstand. And I like Days of Our Lives."

"Days of Our Lives?" The Girl asked in disbelief.

"Yes." I, The Man replied.

The Girl just shook The Head at me. "Okay, what movies do you like?"

"I have a love for Breakfast at Tiffany's." I, The Man, replied wistfully.

"Breakfast….Breakfast at Tiffany's?"

"Yes. I do enjoy Audrey Hepburn. George Peppard is the equivalent of Roger."

The Girl's eyes widened. "You are one strange man."

"_The_ Man." I, The Man corrected her.

"One strange THE Man, whatever."

I, The Man, laughed at The Girl. "Rule number, uh, one more number then the number was last time, I am not strange. Next rule number, I am always to be referred as to as THE Man. Capital T, capital M."

"You said like WAY too many as's in there."

I, The Man had my own English rules. "I, The Man, can speak however I, The Man wants too. Understood?"

The Girl shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever. I'm hungry, Man, do you want something to eat?"

I, The Man nodded The Head. "Yes, yes I, The Man would. What can we eat? Some of The Jam?"

The Girl groaned. "We've had The Jam for the past few days. Can't we have something else?"

"No. I, The Man, is on a strict diet of The Jam and toast."

The Girl sighed. "Fine."

"Can we watch The Who's The Boss again?" I, The Man requested.

"…when are you leaving again?"

I, The Man, put an arm around The Girls shoulder. "Soon, my friend, soon."

"Have you been watching CSI: Miami?"

I, The Man, put on The Sunglasses I found. "Yes, I have, my friend, yes, I have."


	6. Goodbye?

**A/N: Wow. I am getting reviews. This is amazing. Thank you! XD

* * *

**"Got any G's Man?" 

"I'm cool."

"Go any C's Man?

"I'm cool."

"Got any D's, Man?"

"I'm cool."

"Got any X's?"

"Must you always ask me what letter I have?"

The Girl and I, The Man, were playing some game named 'Scrabble', and The Girl was winning.

I, The Man, didn't understand the rules too well. The Girl says that only she can ask what letters I have, but I cannot ask her. These rules do not make sense, but The Girl says that they do.

Oh well.

"Can, I, The Man, and you, The Girl, stop playing The Scrabble and ask some more questions?"

The Girl let out a long sigh and agreed to it.

* * *

Question: **The Man? Tell me what you want, what you really really want.** From Stephanie Pascal.

Answer: I, The Man, is very happy that The Spice Girls are back together. Anyway, I, The Man, really wants, what I really really want is some more crackers to go with this Jam. And to win this Scrabble game.

Question: **Does The Man like to play The Video Games?** From Angel Dumott Scunard Collins.

Answer: I, The Man likes to play The Pac Man. Mainly because I like eating stuff.

Question: **Will you, The Man, marry me? Why or why not?** From Saran VD

Answer: Do you like Jam? Then yes. If you do not, then no.

* * *

"Wow," The Girl re-read the questions over. "You are one harsh Man."

"No," I, The Man, tried to explain, "I, The Man, just likes to...give people a different view. Like that show. The View. Without all of The Screaming and The Donald Trump dissing."

The Girl just sighed, again, and nodded The Head.

"So what else do you want to do?" The Girl asked, packing up The Scrabble.

"Well, I, The Man, thinks I should be on The Way. My Way. Whatever."

The Girl almost dropped The Scrabble.

"On...The Way where?"

"To The Home, I, The Man, supposes."

"But...you just got here! You can't go!"

I, The Man, just shrugged The Shoulders.

"But, what am I going to write about?"

"You'll find a oneshot."

"But...Man--"

"The Man." I, The Man, corrected her.

"Fine, but, The Man! I want to write about you!"

I, The Man, still didn't know how to convince The Girl.

"I'll...let you have some Jam."

"No."

"I'll sing The Entire Song of The Christmas Bells for you."

"No."

"Seasons of Love?"

"No."

"Jesus, I'll sing La Vie Boheme, La Vie Boheme B, Finale A in a high pitched voice AND I'll sing BOTH parts of Finale B."

I, The Man, could tell that The Girl thought this was fair.

"How about you sing all of Christmas Bells, Seasons of Love, La Vie Boheme A & B, Finale A&B, Your Eyes, WITH the guitar, AND some Jam."

I, The Man, thought this was unfair.

But I, The Man agreed to it.

* * *

**I don't want The Man to go. One more chapter after this! Sorry for slow updates!**


	7. Goodbye Love

**A/N: I kinda put this off to the last minute cause I didn't want to leave it. –sigh- Oh well, we will see The Man in the future hopefully! I hope this inspired other people to write their own The Man fics, cause The Man loves em! Enjoy and thank you for all the R&Ring!

* * *

**"Christmas bells are ringing…on TV, at Sacks -- five hundred twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes – to days of inspiration, playing hooky, making something out of nothing – to DANCE! No way to make a living – I should tell you, I should tell you – your eyes, as we said our goodbyes – there is no future, there is no past, thank God this--"

"Okay, okay, I think that is good enough." The Girl said, shaking her head and munching on some of The Jam and some of The Toast. I had gotten (or forced, as she might of said), to like The Jam. On toasted bread. I, The Man, was proud of this accomplishment.

"Good." I, The Man, sighed.

"Oh! One of our amazing reviewers has one last question before you go."

I, The Man, nodded my head and listened.

* * *

Question:** Will you, The Man... GIVE ME A HUGGLE?!** From Angel Dumott Schunard Collins. 

Answer: Yes. If you like The Jam, then you will get a bigger huggle.

* * *

I, The Man, realized how much I, The Man, was going to miss The Girl, The Questions, The FanFictions, The Reviewers, The Nice Bed I, The Man, Got To Sleep In and most of all, I, The Man, would miss this computer.

I, The Man, dried my eyes a little. I, The Man hardly ever cried. But, I, The Man, thought this was an appropriate time to shed some of The Tears.

"Are you all packed up?" The Girl, asked, putting away the cups and saucers we used to drink something called The Kool-Aid.

I, The Man, looked at my boxes of The Jam I had, and The Boxes of The Few Clothes I, The Man, would wear.

"I, The Man, guesses so."

The Girl looked down for a moment. "You know, Man, I've had a good time with you. Sure, you chewed on my slippers and you scared my cat, but you know, you are a good Man."

I, The Man, tried to control The Tears. "Well, The Girl, I, The Man, had a great time with you, The Girl. But, it is I, The Man's, time to go. I, The Man, with my pockets, full of The Jam, needs to go back to The City, to share The Jam, to share The Love, and most of all, to sing. And annoy The Hell out of The Roger Davis.

The Girl nodded and gave me a hug.

"Goodbye, Man," She sang, her voice crackling. The Girl sounded awful when she sang. "Goodbye Man, came to say, goodbye Man, goodbye."

I, The Man, walked out of The House, saddened, but, I, The Man had a thought:

If more people wrote about I, The Man, I, The Man, wouldn't always have to leave. I, The Man, and The Girl, who is now closing and locking The Door behind me, encourages you to spread some love. Some Jam. Some song.

As I walked along The Road, I, The Man, realized my boxes were very light. Then, I, The Man, realized, I, The Man, was only carrying one.

I, The Man, opened up one of The Boxes. It was The Box with my clothes in it.

The Girl had left a note.

_I had taken all of The Jam to share with other people. The Girl hopes you don't mind. Enlcosed are two American Bandstand DVD's and a piece of paper with my number that, if you wouldn't mind, giving to Roger. Thanks. Lots of of The Love,_

_The Girl._

* * *

**LMFAO most random ending ever. Please R&R! Thank you!**


End file.
